


No Way Out

by WelshieMightyMouse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hurt Derek, M/M, Mental Instability, References to Depression, Stiles Stilinski Saves Derek Hale, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 19:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15419589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelshieMightyMouse/pseuds/WelshieMightyMouse
Summary: The pack doesn't need Derek to save them anymore, does he actually have any purpose anymore? Does it even matter if he's gone?A.K.A Derek gets too deep into his head after something Scott says and decides he's not worth anything anymore.N.B: contains suicide attempt so please avoid if this is triggering to you.





	No Way Out

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is another one shot that I wrote in about an hour after listening to a song.
> 
> This fic is based off the song 'No Way Out (Theme to Brother Bear) by Phil Collins, if you don't know it please listen to it and you'll understand where I was going with this.
> 
> The first half of the song is sad as the character believes he is lost after he does something he considers terrible. But he 'sees the path' from his darkness and the songs ends happy. I hope I managed to portray this.
> 
> Once again this fic is unbeta'd and I haven't read it through so I'm welcome to comments and corrections :)

It was Scott's words in the end that broke the dam of guilt and grief that Derek had put up in his head.

"It's okay Derek, we don't need you anymore. Beacon Hills is safe, you can go if you want, have a life...We'll be fine here without you" 

Derek knows he meant it in a kind way, he knows his mind should have focused on the words ' _have a life_ ', but it didn't. ' _We don't need you_ ' swirled around in his head, ' _without you_ ' burrowed itself down deeper and deeper.

He couldn't sleep anymore, the darkness that seeped his mind had washed the colour from his vision. He felt numb all the time, stumbled around in a muted, monochrome world. He remembered feeling like this before, when the fire destroyed his family; Laura eventually got through. His alpha...his _sister_ , but now she's gone too...

_Maybe, Scott's right, they'll be fine without you; why are you still here?_

The thoughts are always there, sitting at the back of his mind, clogging any idea of the future. Derek crawls out of bed, his bones ache, the darkness has seeped into them too, he can feel it reach every cell in his body. He stumbles into the kitchen, flicks on the coffee maker and rests his elbows on the counter; burying his face into his folded arms to block out the daylight.

_They'd be better off without you._  
Kate was your fault.  
Jennifer was your fault.  
Peter was your fault. 

The coffee maker clicked off, Derek raised his head, the ringing in his ears faded slightly as he reached for a mug and picked up the coffee pot.

_You're a murderer, you killed Paige._

Derek missed the mug and hot coffee poured onto his hand, the scalding liquid sizzled against his skin, and he didn't care...

~*~  
Derek hates looking in the mirror now, his eyes look sunken but they always shine blue when he glances at his reflection.

_You're a murderer, only murderers have blue eyes._

He hangs a towel over the mirror over the sink now so he doesn't have to look, and the free standing long mirror in the bedroom now faces the wall. It helps a little, but he can still feel them, boring back into his skull.

_Murderer_  
Murderer  
Murderer 

Derek squeezes his eyes shut, ' _if they're closed maybe no one will know they're blue_ ' he tries to tell himself. It never helps...it never has.

~*~  
He barely eats, barely works out. His clothes hang off his body as the weight and the muscle slip away. Werewolf healing can fix most injuries, but not this. He doesn't want to heal, doesn't deserve it. The burn from the hot coffee has disappeared now, but the jolt that it gave him is still in his thoughts. He picks up the coffee pot and pours the liquid across his hand again, watches the scalds flare up until all the coffee has drained onto the counter top. Then he picks up a cloth, wipes the counter clean and crawls back into bed; it made him feel better for a while.

_You should have burned with them, you lead Kate to them._

He wants to change it all, wants to reverse time to before he met Kate, before Paige even. ' _Maybe they would have lived then, maybe they would have all lived..._ '. His hands shake from hunger and exhaustion, he can feel them trembling against his skin as he buries his face into them; wraps his fingers into his hair and _pulls_ just to _feel_.

_They're better off without you._

He's so tired of fighting, so tired of drowning in the guilt and the pain.

"They'll be better off without me" he whispers into the hollow, empty apartment.

~*~  
He takes the biggest knife from the block with him when he goes into the bathroom. The bath is already running, he left it too long and the water was pouring onto the tiled floor, he leaves it going. He strips slowly, folds his clothes carefully and leaves them on top of the toilet seat, tucks the note into the pocket of his jeans.

**It'll be better here without me**

_They might not even find your body._

He doesn't care anymore, the note was more for himself anyway, closure, for once he is going to allow himself closure.   
He climbs into the bath, the water cascades over the side and splashes onto the floor and he pushes his body down until his head is under the water. Derek raises the knife to his wrist and closes his eyes.

~*~  
"Derek?"

Stiles bangs on the heavy loft door again, he hasn't seen the grumpy werewolf in a few weeks and he's starting to get worried.

_'I'm sure he's fine Stiles, maybe he's just trying to get on with his life'_ Scott had said when Stiles brought up his concerns earlier that day. Stiles wasn't convinced, the niggling feeling of Derek being in danger had set itself into the back of his mind. So naturally Stiles did the only obvious thing and marched himself over to Derek's loft to find out what had happened to the surely werewolf. 

He didn't expect Derek to open the door, so after a few minutes of endless banging, he used the spare key he had cut himself; after swiping the original from Derek's car keys at a pack meeting last summer. He dragged the heavy loft door back into place behind him, listening to the soft click of the safety lock.

"Derek?"

The only sound that greets Stiles' ears is the gentle sound of running water coming from the bathroom. He decides to wait for Derek to finish his shower and putters around the apartment in the meantime. He drags open the heavy blinds covering the windows, dust drifts off them as if they haven't been opened for weeks. ' _Has Derek been living in the dark?_ ' He wonders as he runs his hand along the line of dust collected on the sill. He glances towards the bathroom door again, the sunlight streaming into the loft made it easier for him to make out the state of the living area. The empty coffee mugs littering the side table by the couch, where a crumpled blanket lay haphazardly. His eyes swept across to the bottom of the bathroom door, where water was starting to seep out onto the wooden floorboards of the living area, it was stained pink...

"DEREK?!"

Stiles charges over to the bathroom door, slams against it and wretches the handle down. He throws himself through it, the wood creaking in protest. His sneakers skid and slide on the wet floor as he throws himself against the bath.

"Derek! Oh my God, Derek come on!"

The werewolf is still under the water, Stiles acting on instinct and adrenaline, loops his arms under Derek's armpits and hauls his upper body out of the water. He manages to get Derek's torso leaning against the side of the bath before cupping Derek's chin into his hands.

"Derek wake up come on, Derek please"

Stiles looks down at the cuts on Derek's arms, they're bleeding sluggishly now but the blood is starting to clot. ' _He's healing_ ', hopes surges in Stiles' heart and he stands up, hauling Derek's weight with him down over the side of the bath and onto the floor. Derek's bare back collapses against his chest, soaking his shirt, but Stiles doesn't care. With one hand he links Derek's wrists together in his fingers and raises them over both of their heads; the other he presses against Derek's throat, searching for a pulse.

"Stay with me Derek, I need you to stay with me"

Stiles presses his face against the top of Derek's head, buries his nose into his sopping hair and squeezes his eyes shut.

"Please Derek, I need you, I need you, I.... _love_ you" 

Stiles sobs into Derek's hair, cradling his body against his chest, hoping the faint pulse he can feel against his fingers will get stronger not weaker.

~*~  
 _Please Derek...  
I need you..._

Derek is floating, he feels weightless and free. The darkness in his mind is gone, for once his head is silent, empty...free.

_Derek..._

' _Stiles?_ ' His vision starts to swam into focus, he's standing in the bathroom. Water has flooded the floor, stained dark red with blood...his blood. Derek turns around and takes a startled step back in surprise. He's lying on the floor, soaking wet from the bath water, it drips off his body in pink rivulets onto the tiles. It's not the sight of his body that shocks him, but what it's leaning against. Stiles is wrapped around his back, cradling Derek's body as close to him as he can. In desperation, Derek can see Stiles is holding his wrist high into the air to stop the blood flow to his wounds. He's been holding them there so long his own hands are starting to go white from lack of circulation. Derek can't see his face from where it's buried into the limp hair of his prone body. A sob catches in Derek's throat when he realises Stiles is babbling and crying... _sobbing_. It's only then that Derek tunes into what Stiles is saying.

"I need you, I need you"

Derek shuts his eyes as he takes in a shuddering breath. ' _Stiles, Stiles cares...he always cared..._ ', guilt flared up in his gut knowing that he did this to Stiles. He made Stiles cry, Stiles...Stiles needs him. The realisation causes his vision to swarm again, the heartbreaking scene of Stiles rocking his failing body in his arms, start to fade into the darkness again. It's almost completely gone when Derek hears it.

"I.... _love_ you"

Derek takes in a rattling breath, water sits in his throat and Derek throws himself forward out of Stiles' arms to cough it up. The hacking coughs cause his already tired body to tremble and shake uncontrollably, when they finally finish he falls back against Stiles' chest. Stiles is quiet and still behind him as Derek slowly pulls his wrists from Stiles' iron grip. He slides his hand down Stiles' still raises arm and pulls, the arm comes down and wraps itself across Derek's bare torso automatically. The ringing in Derek's ears clears for the first time in weeks, and its only then that he can hear that Stiles isn't silence, he's still babbling.

"Don't you do that again, ever, please don't...just don't, I can't...Derek I can't....I...." 

Derek turns his head to slot into the junction between Stiles' chin and his neck.

"I love you too..always have" he whispers into the soft skin.

~*~  
Things get better after Stiles finds him, the days don't seem as dull as they did before. It takes time, but he lets Stiles open the blinds, lets him pull the towel down from the bathroom mirror and turn the free standing one round to face the room again. He doesn't comment when the coffee pot gets put in the back of the cupboard, doesn't complain when Stiles asks him to leave the bathroom door open when he showers. It's better now, he can see the sunlight again.

He likes to sit on the balcony now, in the camping chair Stiles brought him, in the sunlight, in the warm. Stiles likes to joke that he's really a cat, finding any patch of sunlight to sleep in; but deep down Derek knows he's just happy that Derek is smiling again.  
He still has bad days, days when Stiles has to drag him out of bed, has to tell him over and over that it wasn't his fault, despite his mind telling him otherwise. Derek has learnt to listen to Stiles instead of the voice inside his head, it's better now...it's slowly getting better. 

Stiles makes him see a therapist, they sit down one evening and work out a list of code words for ' _Supernaturally Things_ ' as Stiles calls them, Derek has to carry the list with him every meeting. He's caught checking it one time and has to blab his way through a lie about it being a shopping list that Stiles gave him as he left the loft, he thinks it worked.

It's on a Sunday when Derek walks up to Stiles, who was sprawled out on the couch, a bowl of cheetos balanced on his stomach. 

"Thank you"

And Stiles looks up at him, and smiles as he raises his hand to pull Derek down onto the couch beside him.


End file.
